


Flawed Beings

by majortom



Series: Currere Sex [7]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Vulpes POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:44:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majortom/pseuds/majortom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vulpes has spent a lot of time living under a tyrant. Now he's worried there may be two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flawed Beings

 

She infuriated him on a regular basis.

He managed to keep that behind closed doors, or at least closed tent flaps. He was a Frumentarius, and more he was a logical man. She was a tremendous asset. He wouldn't do anything to seriously damage their working relationship.

Which was why, in retrospect, Vulpes was pleased she spurned his advances.

He regretted kissing her. It had been a moment of rare weakness. Thinking about Servillia's death, and knowing it was likely the last time he would ever see Six alive, caused him to grow maudlin.

Her outburst shocked him initially, considering she had returned the kiss at first. But he couldn't deny that everything she said was, if not entirely, at least relatively true. One could make the argument that taking any action against the Legion was imbecilic, or that becoming so attached to a slave had been as well. He _was_ also a rapist. Not that the Legion held that in any kind of negative esteem, and he hadn't engaged in such behaviors since before Servillia, but the accusation still stood. A sociopath, too, in the sense that he substituted his own morality for society's. But dying alone? Here Vulpes scoffed. Everyone died alone.

At least he wasn't a hypocrite. All the criticism she flung at him could be equally applied to herself.

He didn't tell her that, though. She was going off on a suicide mission, and there was no reason to burden her with extra knowledge and emotions when she needed her wits about her. He let her scream out her frustration and leave on her own terms.

When she returned, neither of them broached the subject again after their first conversation. Much more beneficial to the both of them that they didn't add another dynamic to their already often strained alliance. By going back to normal it was a tacit agreement that Six forgave Vulpes his weakness, and Vulpes forgave Six her overreaction. They were both flawed beings, after all.

He reached this conclusion as he did almost every evening for the past four weeks since Six had returned. He considered undressing for an early night's sleep to escape the useless thoughts when he was interrupted by a messenger from Caesar.

He welcomed the intrusion. He walked quickly, as though to physically distance himself from mental weakness, and attempted to anticipate what Caesar's summons concerned. It was unlikely that he had received any more information from Flagstaff, but not impossible. Perhaps the in-fighting in the senate was over, and they had selected a new governor. Or it had escalated, and they would turn back north toward the old capitol. Snipers, tribals, food spoilages, issues with the Spartans all ran through his head as he walked. It was good to be ready for any eventuality.

When he reached the tent, Six exited. She looked angry. She saw him approach and made a beeline for him. She grasped his arm and led him away from Caesar's tent.

"I've been summoned--"

"I know," she cut him off harshly. "He fucking -- I'm just glad I got there early. He was going to just tell us!"

Vulpes pressed for more information, but she just shook her head. "Too many ears," she whispered. "I shouldn't have said so much already."

He was alarmed, but schooled his features. Did Caesar know she was waylaying him from the meeting? Ignoring a summons could get you forty lashes, even if you were Vulpes Inculta. He didn't speak, though. He felt strangely tongue-tied. Her grip on his arm was strong as she pulled him away. He could break free, but not without causing a scene. Aside from his usual aversion to causing scenes, he had a vague notion that it would be worse to do so now than ever before.

She pulled him into her tent in the Spartan area of the camp. He hadn't been here since before her suicide mission-cum-massive victory, and he noticed that her accommodations were now much larger than his own. As large as Caesar's, perhaps.

She finally let go of his arm, but didn't speak, and didn't look at him. Instead she muttered to herself and began rifling through the papers on her desk. To Vulpes' trained eyes, she wasn't looking for anything but a distraction from whatever she was upset about.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, allowing a hint of irritation into his tone.

She slammed the papers down. "I got there early. If I hadn't, he would have just said. In front of both of us. Just told us!"

"What--"

"I don't want to be disrespectful to him in front of other people. I really don't. How he thought that he could just throw that out there, I don't know."

Vulpes noted the phrase _in front of other people_ , but left it alone for now. "If I may make a deduction," he said, "you're upset Lord Caesar didn't consider your feelings before speaking to you?"

Some of the steam went out of her. "Well, when you say it like that," she said sarcastically, then sighed. "That's why I didn't want to say anything until we were alone. Because I don't want people to think I'm disrespectful to him. But _he_ \-- he should know better!"

Vulpes felt uneasy again, and wasn't sure why. He had listened to her say many treasonous things, said and done many himself. This was different.

"What did he say, Six?"

She sat down heavily in her desk chair and absently massaged her leg. The profligate doctor said it would likely never heal entirely. "There's going to be a ceremony next week. To elevate me -- well, that's not the right word. To tell everyone that I'm God-born." She paused.

He raised an eyebrow. "I know the thought makes you uncomfortable, but --"

"It's not that," she said with a wave of her hand. "I've known about that for days. We talked about it. Today he was going to tell us that that means our marriage will be dissolved."

With a great effort, Vulpes managed to make his mouth work. "And you're upset about that?"

She glared at him. "Would you focus, please?"

Her attitude cut through his shock. "I am _._ I don't understand why you would care--" She sighed again, and Vulpes wanted to slap her. "It was never a real marriage, as you said yourself _many times_. As it hasn't been necessary to your position for a long time I can't see why you'd have an issue with it."

"You can't see why I'd take issue with someone who is my religious equal getting my husband and I together to inform us we are no longer married, without even speaking to _me_ about it first?" she asked, incredulous.

The queasiness in his stomach cemented, and he knew what the problem was. 

She was higher in the Legion than he was.

The thought took a few moments to sink in. Both Lucius and Lanius were above him in succession, but structurally the three were equal. They had no ability to control his daily life. He could even tell them off in public if he wanted to, and they couldn't punish him for it. Caesar was the only one to whom he needed to kowtow.

But now there were two.

Someone so powerful that she could challenge Caesar himself, if only in private.

He had no doubt that if Six ordered him forty lashes for missing a summons, Caesar wouldn't even blink an eye.

"I... I suppose I can see why that would upset you," he said slowly.

"We're staying married," she said with finality.

"If that is what you think is best," he replied.

"I do. He needs to understand that we're equals now. Not necessarily in the Legion hierarchy. I mean, he's still the commander of this army, and when it comes to battle I'll listen to him. But personally, he has no right to dictate what I do. And people already think our marriage is a sham, and I can see why. We haven't acted like man and wife in a long time. I didn't think it was important, but with all the fucking hoopla about it, now..." She rolled her eyes. "I don't want to give them any excuse to accuse me of scheming."

"That certainly seems to be the logical course of action." He was shocked and a little appalled to discover how easy it was to speak to her as if she were Caesar. He imagined momentarily how shaming it would be to accidentally call her 'my Lord'. He tried to brush it off. She had power. He should just accept it. It was what they had been working for, after all. This was success.

She didn't see the change in his behavior. She was wrapped up in her own thoughts. He created this, he reminded himself. But he never expected _this_ situation. Crucifixion was always a possibility, he knew, but this was something he had not foreseen.

He was bothered by how much it bothered him.

He tried to change the direction of his thoughts, ignore this feeling until he could escape it. He wanted to ask why Caesar would do such a thing as elevate her to be his religious equal in the first place. Did he actually believe she was the daughter of a Goddess? It was a question he wouldn't have hesitated with before. But now, with instincts drilled in him from long years serving under a capricious dictator, it seemed like a question he should keep to himself lest be thought of as disrespectful, or over-reaching his position.

His stomach knotted further with every passing second. He needed to leave this tent. He wasn't prepared for this eventuality. He needed to get away. Make a plan. Figure out how to deal with this.

"I should go to Caesar," he said.

Six didn't look up, just waved her hand dismissively again. "No need. I'll see him later. I'll tell him what we decided."

_What '_ we' _decided?_ He thought incredulously. "Forgive me, but if Lord Caesar sends me a summons I am still going to answer it," he said, with a hint of bite in his tone.

"There's really no need. I said I would talk to you, so he isn't expecting you anymore." She swiveled in her chair to face her desk and sighed. "Yvana is busy training with the Tara, so now I need to redo all these work rotas myself. They still have Onawa listed on them." She shuffled papers for a few moments. Vulpes had very little idea what she was talking about. She looked up at him. For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Her complaining about paperwork, him trying to help her before she got frustrated and threw it on the ground. It was on his tongue to ask what happened to this Onawa, but she said, "You can go. I'll be working on these for hours."

He couldn't stop his lip from curling at that remark, but she wasn't looking anymore.

\---

He went back to Caesar's tent, of course. The Lady Trivia wasn't his only master.

Caesar was alone but for Praetorians, studying a text.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Lord," he said.

The man didn't look up as he said, "I wasn't expecting you anymore, so you could call yourself early."

Vulpes waited for a few seconds. When Caesar remained silent he said, "If that is the case, I apologize for the disruption. I will take my leave, if it pleases you."

Caesar merely grunted. Vulpes refrained from gritting his teeth as he turned away.

\---

Vulpes avoided Six for days. It was so easy he could barely call it avoidance. She stayed in her own area of the camp except for her private meetings with Caesar. She didn't even show up in the evening with everyone else. He supposed she already knew the information that was handed down to them, and more besides.

He knew the anger was petty. He tried to push it down. It wasn't rational. He admitted he was, perhaps, a somewhat arrogant man. But he hadn't known he was egotistical enough to feel such jealousy at her position. Her superior attitude in their last conversation still made his blood boil. She expected him to understand her frustration at Caesar for annulling their marriage while never realizing her decision to keep it intact without asking his opinion was just as tyrannical.

Then again, her hypocrisy was nothing new, he reminded himself.

"Inculta!" called a voice from outside his tent.

"Enter, Lanius," he responded.

He rose and fetched a folding chair from the corner of his tent and set it up for the Legate as he entered. He still had his manners, he thought grimly.

They sat across from each other. Lanius, as always, wasted no time on pleasantries.

"I come to you in confidence, Inculta. There is no love lost between us, and we have many differences. But I do not know who else I could trouble with my thoughts. I come here in strict loyalty to Caesar, though my words will not be pleasant."

Vulpes raised one eyebrow a small amount, enough to show interest and slight incredulity. "If you have concerns, Lanius, I would hear them. I do not doubt your devotion to Lord Caesar."

"My concern is for his health. He is not complaining of headaches, but he cuts our evening meetings short. Spends much time alone in his tent. Takes his meals in solitude, or with the woman and the profligate doctor. Surely these things you have noticed."

His face was hidden behind his mask, but Vulpes could see where this conversation was going. "You think the brain tumor is back?" he asked.

"Perhaps. It was a profligate slave who cured him in the first place, and I never trusted his skill or his integrity. A tumor or some other lingering sickness; either way, it worries me."

"I understand your caution, but surely these few things are no proof of sickness."

Lanius was silent for a moment. "Perhaps not, but there are other indicators. You and the woman have been close, but the mockery of marriage between you has long since been spent."

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"It is clear her ambitions have outstripped you, but if you still harbor a personal attachment to her there are certain details which might have escaped your notice."

Vulpes smiled coldly. "So you say I am both a tool and a fool?"

"Or that you share her ambitions. But I must hope it is the former," he said, "or I have made a grave mistake in coming here." The offhand accusation of treason startled him, but Lanius continued speaking as if it were nothing. "Even if you haven't seen the way he treats her, you must have heard his plans for her."

"I have," Vulpes admitted. "But it sounds, Lanius, as though you are merely resentful that she is achieving such a high rank. Higher, indeed, than both of us."

"Does that not worry you?" he asked. "Does it not worry you that Caesar is putting one who deserves slave rags at his right side?" He leaned toward him. "Either Caesar is being manipulated by the profligate and the woman, or he sincerely believes her to have godly blood. Both indicate mental sickness."

"He says he is the son of Mars. Who better to know of such lineage?"

Lanius paused, then leaned back in his chair, away from Vulpes. "I suppose if you believe that, there is nothing for us to talk about."

"It has little to do with what I believe," Vulpes said, "and everything to do with the will of Caesar."

"But if he is compromised," Lanius pressed. "If his judgment is faulty due to sickness? Most likely, we will soon march to Flagstaff. With a self-proclaimed goddess! The senators there are already fighting each other over who will take over Augustus' role. If Caesar is not in control of his own mind--"

"What are you saying, Lanius?" he cut him off.

"She will ruin the Legion, Inculta. It is happening already. You must know this, in your heart. And with Caesar helping her every step of the way, is it so surprising to think his malady has returned?"

"I understand your concerns, Lanius, and I mark them, but I am not yet convinced. You admit he is not suffering headaches, or any of his previous symptoms. You take only his actions as proof of illness, and I would warn you against it, lest others accuse _you_ of ambition." He stood, signaling that the conversation was at an end.

Lanius rose and stepped close to him. "And I would warn _you_ , Inculta," he said. There was anger in his voice, a contrast to the blank mask. "Her own ambition, and her loyalty, are not to your benefit, whatever your aims. No one believes in this falsehood of a marriage, and she has grown past it being of any use to her. I wouldn't be surprised to hear soon that only god-born can marry god-born, and where will your advantage be, then?"

He strode from the tent.

Vulpes had a strong desire to laugh. Lanius may think they were seditious, and he would have been right if he'd levelled that accusation earlier. But it was too late. They had already won. Any act by Lucius against Six would be treason, now. And soon, it would be sacrilege.

He did laugh then, and if it held some bitterness, Vulpes ignored it.

\---

"And one last thing," Caesar said. "Tomorrow will be a day of rest, and at sunset will be Trivia's ceremony. After, double rations for Denacii and below. Ideally, we would have a real feast for everyone, but we just don't have the stock. Atticus and Lucius will be coordinating guards posted around the camp and the service, so I expect that all legionaries besides those they select to be in attendance. That is all."

Vulpes left the meeting feeling, if not good, at least not sick with anger. A week spent in relative solitude had helped him. He barely felt anything at all. Even when he pushed back his tent flap and saw Six sitting in his chair.

He nodded to her. She smiled at him.

"So, the ceremony is tomorrow," she said.

"Yes, I believe Caesar might have said something about it," he replied. He turned away and started slowly loosening the ties on his armor. It wasn't that he didn't want to look at her, but he was hot and he was trying not to make her uncomfortable by removing his armor so brazenly.

"I want you to be there." Her voice came from behind him.

"Everyone will be there," he assured her.

"No, I meant--" she crossed over to stand next to him. "I want you to be with me. Not, like, right next to me, obviously, but off to the side, by Caesar."

He gritted his teeth. "Why?"

From the corner of his eye he saw her cock her head to the side and smile. He looked away. "Because you're my husband, of course. It would be weird if you were lost in the crowd."

He closed his eyes slowly and opened them again. "I suppose after telling Caesar he had no ability to govern you, you had to make your own demands to see if he would follow them," he said blankly.

He turned and placed his armor on top of the footlocker. He took advantage of the empty chair and turned to his desk. He wasn't avoiding looking at her, he just needed to check something in his scouting reports.

"I guess. I didn't really think of it that way," she said. "I've been busy this week, but we need to start pretending to be married again  This is as good an opportunity as any. And I want you there because... without you, well, I wouldn't be there, either."

"I suppose that's true."

"You suppose, you suppose." She came and leaned next to the desk. "Are you angry with me or something?"

"Of course not."

She scooted up onto his desk, pushing his papers away from him. He restrained a sigh. "Well, you're acting strangely. You haven't even looked at me since you got here."

He looked up at her now. She was sitting on his desk, disturbing his papers, smiling down at him. He longed to push her off. "I assure you, Six, I am not angry."

"Good, because I have something I need you to do," she said, smile gone. "Go to Arcade. He has some books. Ten or twelve or so. Bring them to Yvana first, she will pick out some, then bring the rest back to me."

Vulpes remained very still for a few moments. He stood slowly. "Very well."

Six groaned and hopped to the ground, wincing. "Stop it!" she said. "Stop acting like this! You probably think I didn't notice it last time, but I did. Stop it!"

Vulpes' anger came back hot in full force, but he replied coldly. "As you say."

"What is your problem?" she demanded. "Are you really just pissy that I'm going to have some bullshit religious standing? You know I don't even believe in that stuff."

"I couldn't be more pleased--"

"Now you're just doing it to piss me off," she said. "What the hell, Vulpes?"

He forced himself to look in her eyes. "I don't know if you noticed, _Trivia_ , but we've succeeded. Caesar is never going to kick you out, now. Personally, I cannot fathom why he would admit to you being his equal in the eyes of the Gods, but he is assuring you that you have nothing to fear from him. The only thing you could do now, I imagine, is be caught standing over his bed in the middle of the night with a silenced pistol. Even then, you would get a quick death, so he could cover it up. There is nothing more you need from me, so if you wouldn't mind leaving me to my work--"

"You're pissy because I don't need you anymore?" she asked incredulously. "I told Caesar off so we could keep our marriage. That benefits you tremendously. An alliance like that gives you more power than Lanius or Lucius. Who do you think will _really_ be next in line for succession now? But you just avoid me because, what, you feel _impotent_ \--"

He turned toward her, hand raised. Whether he meant to hit her or just grab her and shake her, he didn't know, but he pulled it  back. "I never cared for advancing my personal power. I helped _you_ get power so our goals could be reached. Now that we've achieved that goal there is no reason to go on pretending. If you can't allow Caesar the privilege, perhaps you should end this sham yourself, hmm? I've succeeded in my work. When we strike north again, I will collect my daughter and deliver her to your Spartans, and all I dreamed will be done. I don't need power or accolades. Sever the tie between us and let me have my own life back."

She gaped at him. "I didn't think--"

"No, you never think, do you?" he said, closing the small distance between them. "You decry Caesar for forcing his marital ideas upon you, but you have no qualms doing the same to me. You never thought that once our common goals neared completion I might desire a normal life. Perhaps even a normal wife."

"Oh, so you're just upset because it's been a while since you got your dick wet? You were always free to do that, it's not my fault."

He raised his hand to strike her in her profane mouth, and again resisted the urge. "Yes, that's true. I suppose _you_ were never faithful."

She winced, as though she thought he might not have known about the drunken night with the tribal in Primm, or he hadn't heard the rumors of her sneaking into the profligate's tent at night. "It was never a real marriage!" she hissed.

"And when the chance came to end the farce," he said, "you didn't think for even a moment that I would want that? A chance for something more than a fiction?"

She cast her eyes down. Sign of guilt. "I thought, after Servillia, I mean..."

"Don't lie," he said quietly.

She looked up and anger flashed in her eyes. "You're right. I thought that you wanted me, anyway. So, no, I didn't think you'd be too upset about keeping the title."

His hand was still raised. He lowered it to her cheek, toyed with the hair around her face. She tensed, but didn't speak. "Even if that were true," he whispered, "you have made it very clear that such a thing will never happen. Yet you'd rather keep me bound then let me find it somewhere else. What does that say?"

He didn't want it anywhere else. He wasn't sure if he wanted it with her. He wasn't entirely sure what this argument was even about. But he wanted her to admit that she was wrong. He wanted to grab her hair and pull until she cried and apologized; for anything, for everything. He couldn't, of course. He still wouldn't hurt a woman who didn't want it.

"You never said you wanted that," she said.

"You never asked," he replied.

She sighed. "You're right. I didn't. I'm sorry. And it's too late, at least for now." She looked up at him. "But I will leave you alone, if that's what you want. In six months, a year, I can probably dissolve our marriage without looking too foolish. That's all I ask. And you can have the life you want. Just... remember that the life I wanted was a simple Praetorian. Or I could have run away in the Northern Passage, before I got this deep. You pushed and prodded me the whole way. Not saying I'm not equally responsible, but," she looked away again, "I will never escape what we created. I will never have a normal life. But I guess if at least one of us can, that's a good thing."

She slipped out of his grasp and out of his tent. He sat down on his chair and stared vacantly at the doorway.

Perhaps it wasn't only her status that disconcerted him. Perhaps he was also frightened that she really might have no use for him anymore. And he would be alone again.

How did she make it sound so logical? She treated him like a subordinate, then told him off for acting like one. She left him behind, then acted like _he_ was the one leaving _her_.

And worst of all, somehow made him feel _better_.

His lip curled. He shoved his papers off the desk in anger, but they just fluttered peacefully to the ground. Mars fucking above, she infuriated him.

\---

Vulpes stood next to Caesar as the priestesses chanted in Latin, washed her feet, and laid a wreath of woven cactus needles and yellow flowers on her head. He wasn't sure that all those things were particularly Roman, but he supposed they would be now.

She walked over to Caesar and gave him the barest of nods. He returned it. She looked at Vulpes and smiled, but it was guarded and unsure.

"Oh, go ahead, kiss him. It's your day," Caesar said.

Vulpes was certain that wasn't a magnanimous gesture. Perhaps that is how Six and Caesar would rule together - never openly disagreeing, but passive-aggressively maneuvering the other at each opportunity. But it didn't matter now. They had their parts to play. Six stepped over to him and pressed her mouth against his, in front of the Gods and everyone. It wasn't a real kiss. It wasn't like the ones he shared with Servillia, or even like the short kiss before Six left on her suicide mission. It was a farce for the crowd, like this whole damn ceremony was. But even though there was nothing romantic about it, he thought it meant something. It broke past all the fights, all the religion, all the political machinations. Maybe it was as simple as the shared knowledge that they were still in this together. He reached his hand around to cup the back of her neck, and he knew Six thought so, too. He could feel her smile on his lips.


End file.
